


The Christmas Pageant

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: (aka Santa), Bloodstones and Chanting, Butchering of the first Christmas, Christmas AU?, Christmas in Night Vale, Christmas pageant, Drugged Government Bear, Guns, M/M, Mistletoe, Mpreg?, OCs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:50:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Carlos' first Christmas since he's returned from the other desert world and Cecil has a surprise for him. Carlos hasn't quite learned the traditions of Christmas in Night Vale and Cecil has put together a perfect way to show him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a fic for the wtnvss thing on Tumblr. Intern Natalia belongs to natalia-collins on Tumblr. This fic is for her and I want to try to get this all up before Monday's episode completely throws this off and everything is not-canon. If I can't finish it all before then, well, I'm going to continue because I really like my ideas for this.

Cecil shifted the box to one arm while nicking his other on the sanitized blood spike. A soft trickle of warmth dripped down his arm and he wiped it across the bloodstones. As the doors faded to nothing, he stepped quickly into the station, eliciting a muffled clatter from the box as the items inside shifted.

The doors immediately re-materialized behind and provoked an even brighter glow from the lights strung around the front desk and arms and legs of the ancient waiting furniture. Garish shades of red, green, and white shouted from every corner where tacky dime-store decorations of sandflakes, sandmans, and santas tearing the heads from children who had not sacrificed the correct meats in their ceremonial bloodstone circles hung in thick processions.

Ah yes, Christmas time was upon them and Cecil loved every cheery, violent, blood soaked minute of it.

“What have you got there, Mr. Palmer?”

The radio host smiled as he made his way over to the intern behind the front desk, “Natalia, I’ve told you a million times to call me Cecil. Mr. Palmer makes me sound so… old.”

“Sorry,” she shrugged, “still getting used to it. So what’s in the box?

“Oh you are absolutely going to love this!” Cecil grinned wider as he deposited it onto the counter with a heavy thud.

“Er, it’s not another slash fic for me to edit, is it?” Natalia held back a grimace as she eyed the box. There was only so much shark erotica she could take and the pages peeking from under the lid made her shudder.

“No no.” Cecil replied and she forced down a sigh of relief. “But don’t worry,” he reassured, “I have another one coming along that I know you’ll just love!”

_“Oh yaaay...”_ Natalia winced.

Cecil was too distracted to notice her blatant false enthusiasm and went on.

“What I’ve got in mind is a million times better, Nat. _Oh_ ,” he effused, picking the box up once more, _“this is just going to be so NEAT!”_

“What exactly is this?” Natalia leaned over the counter as he headed to his studio.

“Have everyone in the breakroom in fifteen!” He called over his shoulder, ignoring her question.

“Okay, but why, Mr. Palmer?”

“ _Cecil_!” He corrected, “And it’s a surprise! Just get everyone gathered!”

She started another query but he was already dashing up the stairs. He sidled quickly around Station Management’s door which, in honor of the upcoming holiday, was now emanating a thick, red light and pulsing, discordant notes of festive songs. Cecil was so excited that he hardly noticed the butchered chorus of his favorite carol “Christmas Time is Here _(And it is coming for you. There is nothing you can do. You will not escape this time)_ ” eeking from under the great stone slab. They were even so kind as to lessen his emotional trauma to a vague numbness to the entire existence of the universe and it quickly faded as he stepped into his cluttered studio.

He set the box down onto the corner of the switchboard that was not overrun with boughs of garland, holly, and back up stores of mistletoe and pulled out his cellphone.

He scrolled through his contact list and tapped. There were four succinct rings before she picked up.

“Dana! Oh sorry, _Mayor Cardinal_ …” Cecil smirked as she reminded him not to call her that.

“Alright, alright, I won’t do it again, I promise.” He fiddled with a few sprigs of pine as he talked, crushing the needles and sending a sharp scent into the stuffy air. “I just was wondering if there’s any chance you could grace our humble station with your presence? Why?”

He plopped into his chair, contemplating whether or not he should tell her yet.

“Oh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise… can’t you just come over?”

There was a pause as he waited for her to check her schedule.

“Neat!” He gushed when she replied. “And you’re sure The City Council won’t mind you stepping out for a bit?”

He laughed aloud as she explained what she’d tell them to do if they tried to stop her.

“Great! I’ll see you soon, but before I go, would I be going out on a limb to assume you still have that cerulean cape…?”

Next, he called Earl. It took little persuasion on his part to convince the sous chef to come and he even eagerly agreed to pick up a few things on his way over.

“Excellent.” Cecil remarked to himself when he’d hung up. Things were going perfectly.

He looked at his watch, an action that no longer caused his heart to ache with longing, and it relayed approximately nine minutes until everyone would be in the break room. He took this extra time to riffle through the box and check that he had brought enough preliminary supplies.

_“Void!”_ He cursed, finding that he’d forgotten the syringes.

He considered texting Carlos to bring some over, but that would ruin everything. It was the scientist’s first Christmas since returning from that desert other world and Cecil had planned this to be a surprise for him. They would just have to improvise until someone could get a pack from the nearest day care center…  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is long but it gives a basic outline of my headcanon for Christmas traditions in Night Vale.

Cecil stepped into the break room where the entire workforce of Night Vale Community Radio was gathered.

The interns; Phyllis, Maureen, Natalia, and Shay were grouped into their own corner trying to glean an understanding of Cecil’s plans from what little Nat could report. Sindhu, Alaine, and Rasheed from sales along with the new producer, Qara, were flocked around the coffee maker, engrossed in a game of Deer, Duck, Dragon to see who would brave the patch of void to make a fresh pot.

“A little help!” Cecil called from around the cartons stacked in his arms.

“Oh!” Phyllis rushed forward and Rasheed helped her take two of the boxes.

“Mm, thank you.” Cecil set the other down and turned just as Dana and Earl filed in.

“Careful!” He made to grab a box from the mayor’s laden arms but she twisted away.

“Nope. I don’t need your help.”

“Yeah, she’s stronger than she looks.” Earl set his crates down and arched a crick from his back.

“M hm,” Dana replied, “if I can brave The Dog Park and that desert other world, I can certainly handle a few boxes. What is this all for anyway?”

She pulled out two shimmering blue cloaks from one of the boxes and looked at Cecil questioningly.

“Seriously, Cecil,” Earl opened his own to reveal meat cleavers, tenderizers, and butchering knives, “why do you need these?”

“I’ll tell everyone in a minute.” The radio host reassured, “But first, Earl, I need you to-”

“What in the world?” Shay had started rooting around in the other containers and pulled out two semiautomatic handguns.

“Are you preparing for Valentine’s Day or something?” Qara had joined in on the looting and discovered several bottles of chloroform, a handful of Swiss Army knives, and a clear vial labeled **_CONCENTRATED VISCUM ALBUM EXTRACT_**.

Recognition dawned on the faces of those who could read the bottle and a collective “ _Ohhh_ ” spread around the room as the rest were informed. Cecil snatched the bottle from Qara’s hand.

“Thanks for ruining the surprise!” He pouted, though it was more put on than actual.

“Well I don’t know about the rest of you,” Qara shrugged, “but I’m still in the dark. Are we putting up a Christmas scene or something?”

Everyone nodded in agreement and Cecil realized they hadn’t quite figured it out.

“Well actually, Qara,” he remarked, rolling the bottle in his palms, “you’re pretty close. But, we’re not putting _up_ a Christmas scene so much as we are putting one _on_.”

Blank expressions met his excited one.

“And that means…?” Maureen cocked an eyebrow as she motioned with her hands for him to extrapolate.

“It means,” Cecil held his arms wide in a gesture of grandeur, “that we here at Night Vale Community Radio are going to put on our very first Christmas pageant!”

There was a moment’s pause and everyone looked from Cecil to the boxes and back at him as the pieces fell into place.

And then there was chaos.

_“No way I’m getting on stage!”_

_“Are you crazy? I can’t act!”_

_“I’m not going anywhere near a Santa!”_

_“But I don’t believe in Christmas!”_

“HEY!” Dana’s voice rang out through the verbal pandemonium and adamant hand waving. Everyone stopped mid sentence, the instinct of immediately obeying their mayor rendering them mute, and she nodded to Cecil.

“Thank you, Dana.”

“Sure thing.” She leaned casually against the table and kept a stern gaze, daring them to interrupt again.

“Okay, well, I wasn’t exactly expecting this response-”

“I am _not_ getting up on a stage.” Maureen was glaring but she caught sight of Dana and shrank back a little.

Cecil sighed and his shoulders deflated. “Come on, Mo, it’s Christmas and I was really hoping you would all help me do something nice for Carlos.”

The tension in the room seemed to ease at the mention of his boyfriend and Maureen rubbed her arm sheepishly.

“So it’s about Carlos?” Earl kicked off the wall, twirling a knife poetically between his fingers.

“Well, yes!” Cecil effervesced. “And, no I suppose, but mostly yes! It’s his first Christmas since he was stuck in that other desert world. I wanted to surprise him, and I could think of nothing better to introduce him to our traditions.”

“What do you mean _introduce_?” Rasheed raised an eyebrow, as did everyone else.

“Well," the radio host shrugged, "Carlos doesn’t exactly hold the same beliefs about Christmas as we do.”

There was a simultaneous intake of harsh air as everyone winced in horror.

“I know, I know.” He held up reassuring hands.

“B-but how is still alive?” Sindhu shivered as she covered her mouth agape with terror.

_“Did his parents never teach him?”_

_“But all bloodstones come with instructions! Didn’t he read them?_

_“Why didn’t you tell him?!”_

“It’s alright, everyone!” Cecil’s soothing tones caressed their worried nerves. “I was shocked at first, too. Apparently where he comes from, they hold a vastly different idea about what Christmas is. He told me that Santa was a fat, old man that comes down chimneys and eats cookies.”

“What in the Void?”

“Yes,” Cecil laughed, “apparently to appease his Santa, you offer baked goods and bovine secretions.”

“Wait-wait,” Alaine stuttered and shook her head, “that is _not_ going to protect you!”

“My exact sentiments,” the radio host replied, “but when I tried to explain the _correct_ sacrificial items and rituals, he looked at me as if I were speaking Modified Sumerian! I realized he would not fully understand the truth behind Christmas so I took it upon myself to make his circle and meat pyre for him.”

A collective exhale of nervous air breathed into the room as they all sighed with relief.

“Yes, that was all well and good,” he mused, “but I’d really like him to know the truth about Christmas. I want him to know about the real Santa, about our savior, _Rogue Maria_ …”

A wistful murmur arose as they all took a few seconds to bless her.

“And,” Cecil continued, “I want him to be able partake in our wonderful holiday traditions with me. There’s nothing sadder than having to stockpile weaponry, meat, and mistletoe by yourself while your perfect scientist boyfriend mumbles about reindeer and spruce trees.”

There were more confused stares but Cecil waved them away.

“So,” He grabbed the stacks of papers from one of the boxes, “we’re going to put on a play just for him. So he can know the truth. So he can learn how to protect himself. So he can fully understand this wretched holiday and all of the cheerful hell it inflicts.”

There were a few grumbles but everyone seemed to comply. If it was for Carlos, how could they possibly refuse?

“Neat!” Cecil beamed as he started handing out scripts. “Now these aren't quite finished but I think they’ll suffice until I can apply the finishing touches.”

Expressions ranged from horrified to ecstatic as everyone discovered their roles.

“Really, Cecil?!” Dana jumped forward and embraced him. “I get to be _Rogue Maria_?!”

“Well of course!” Cecil laughed as her eyes shone with excitement. “I could think of no one better! I’d have asked Tamika but she’s a bit too young to fit the correct age profile. _But you are perfect for the role!”_ He added this quickly as he saw her face fall a bit at the mention of Tamika.

He then surveyed the others. Maureen looked mildly peeved but mostly indifferent. He’d taken her stage fright into account and cast her as a _Child_ along with Shay, Phyllis, and Natalia who also seemed relieved at not being put center stage.

Rasheed, Alaine, Sindhu, and Qara all seemed pleased with their roles as _Vague Yet Menacing Government Officials_. And then there was Earl.

His face had gone pale and he opened his mouth and closed it again as he re-read his role.

“Y-you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope!” Cecil threw an arm around the sous chef’s shoulders making him jump. “I was mulling it over and over in my head and, I have to say, you were the only one I could think of for this particular role."

Earl swallowed hard and dared to look at the radio host.

“S-so who’s playing…” His voice trailed off as Cecil chuckled, grinning wider and wider.

He looked furiously down as his cheeks erupted in crimson. Cecil squeezed his shoulders but Earl refused to look up.

“Oh come on, we’ll be great together!”

Earl’s cheeks burned and his hands clenched tightly to the script, the script that designated him the _Virgin Father_ of _Rogue Maria_ , the script that designated him the bearer of the world’s savior, the script that designated Cecil as **_The Being_** and all the responsibilities that came with _being_ **_The_ _Being_**.

"What's so bad about getting knocked up by a god?" Maureen had slouched in a chair and she rested her cheek on her hand so she looked even more indifferent than usual.

"N-nothing." Earl stammered though the way his freckles had all but disappeared suggested otherwise.

“Yeah,” Cecil agreed, “it’s an honor to play this part. I’ll know you’ll do great.”

“Sure, yes, yeah…” Earl was rambling but Cecil didn’t seem to catch on as to why. Instead, he clapped him on the back and turned to address everyone.

“We have three weeks to get this put together. We’ll have rehearsals four times a week at the rec center. Earl? Dana? Do you both think you can be there by ten p.m.?”

Dana nodded and Earl did too, though it was a bit robotic as the shock of his role hadn’t quite worn off yet.

“Neat! Oh! And I’ve reserved the auditorium at the high school for the final performance so we’ll have to factor in lighting and placements while we rehearse.”

“Wow,” Phyllis looked impressed, “you’re going really far with this aren’t you?”

“Of course! Anything for my wonderful Carlos…”

“Are we only doing this for Carlos?” Shay cut in. “I mean,” he shook his head, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, but wouldn’t this be a little much for just one person?”

Cecil nodded, “A valid query. I do want this to be for Carlos but it would be a lovely treat for the entire town, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh yes!” Dana smiled and clapped her hands, “that would be great. I’m sure I could find a way to get word around without Carlos finding out!”

“Thank you, Dana!”

She beamed in response.

“Okay!” Cecil clapped his hands in a gesture of finality. “Anymore questions or suggestions?”

“Just one.” Earl had finally shaken off his comatose shock, “Where are we supposed to get a proper Santa?”

Cecil smiled slyly. 

“I’m sure the zoo would be more than happy to lend us an actor.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next is the real pageant! I've got to get it up before Monday so this whole thing isn't rendered "un-canon" by the the upcoming episode. Hopefully it won't be too rushed but we'll see how my procrastination plays out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S PERFORMANCE TIME!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, this really kinda got out of hand. It's a tad longer than anticipated and it's definitely odd. Sorry for any mistakes. I have to get this out before Monday's ep and I really rushed the ending. Oh well, ENJOY!!

Cecil peaked through the curtains and his stomach flipped. There were so many people! Nearly every resident of Night Vale had attended, but there was still one missing.

Cecil checked his watch and frowned. There were only ten minutes before it was scheduled to start. He was positive that no one would mind if it had to be delayed, but he didn’t want to have to resort to that.

Pulling out his phone, he let the thick, velvet curtains hush closed so no one would see the blue glow and tapped Carlos’ contact. As he brought the phone to his ear, he heard a ring echoing the one from the speaker and he opened the curtains again to see Carlos fumbling to answer his cell as he maneuvered through the seats.

“Carlos!”

“Cecil, hi. I’m in the auditorium but I can’t seem to find you.”

“Look at the stage.” Cecil giggled as Carlos looked up.

“Cecil,” he asked once he’d spotted him, “what are you doing up there?”

“You’re a scientist,” Cecil teased, “use your deductive reasoning.”

But before Carlos could reply, Maureen yanked him back behind the curtains, grabbed his phone, and hung up.

“Maureen-!”

 _“Ican’tdothis.”_ The interjection was panicked and Cecil halted his chastisement immediately.

He tucked his phone into his pocket (Carlos would find out what was going on soon enough) and lifted Maureen’s trembling chin with a gentle finger.

“Mo, listen, everything will be fine. _No_ -” He held her gaze sternly as she tried to turn away. “It _will_. You’ve done wonderfully in rehearsals and you don’t even have that many lines! Shay, Nat, and Phyl will be right there next to you, if you stumble you have their voices to mask the mistake.”

“I - I’m not worried I’ll mess up. I just - I can’t do it!” Her eyes were sparkling with tears. “There’s just so many people, and they’ll all be looking at me!”

“I hate to burst your narcissistic bubble,” Cecil changed his tone to a wiley teasing he knew would make her smile, “but everyone will be looking at Dana, Earl, and the bear. The maximum amount of attention you’ll get is when you get attacked.”

Maureen half laughed half hiccuped and Cecil pulled her into a hug.

“You’ll be fine.” He let go and she wiped away her nervous tears. “If need be, we can always give you some of the bear’s sedative.”

He smirked and she laughed fully.

“Okay,” she let out a shaky sigh but her voice was steady, “let’s do this.”

“That’s the intern I know!” He clapped her on the shoulder before following her backstage.

He looked at his watch. Seven more minutes.

“Alright! Every gather round, let’s see how we all look!”

They all congregated for the final inspection and Cecil pulled out his makeup kit for final touch-ups.

Earl and Dana were clad in matching, cerulean capes and she had even managed to procure some extra ivory rings for the both of them. Earl still had his boots from when he was Scoutmaster and Josie had been more than willing to give Dana her’s from when she had been in the girlscouts. The rest of their outfits consisted of pants and long sleeved shirts so black that the capes seemed to glow in contrast.

The interns looked like they’d been drug through hell and back. _Perfect_.

“Oh! Hold on.” Cecil whipped out his eyeliner and fixed a darker tone onto Shay’s bruised eye. “There, now let’s see our Government Officials.”

Sindhu, Rasheed, Qara, and Alaine had fixed up nicely, donning the suites they had been forced to wear at the StrexCorp Company Picnic. The bloodstains leftover from the battle made the ensemble almost entirely realistic but they’d had to touch up the fabrics with a few rents here and there. Their utility belts were equipped with the semiautomatic rifles and chloroform bottles (both of which were empty) and a Swiss Army knife apiece. The SSP had also graciously donated several earpieces and dark, one-way shades, and with Cecil checking the Old Texts over and over to ensure everything was up to snuff with the stories, they could have passed for actual agents.

“Okay, well, you all look great!” Cecil clicked his makeup kit shut, convinced that all bruises and cuts were gruesome enough, and nodded to the back of the stage. “Earl? How’s our Santa doing?”

“He’s fine,” Earl mumbled, fidgeting with the neck clasp of his cape. Dana rolled her eyes and fixed it for him. _“Thanks,”_ he looked back up. “I fed him the sedative about twenty minutes ago so we should be safe.”

“And your control?”

“Strong as ever,” the redhead reassured. “I’ve been practicing since we started rehearsing. I could mind control him in my sleep.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure?” Maureen had re-established her cocky attitude after Cecil’s pep talk and gave Earl a stern look. “Cause if that thing crushes me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” He reassured. “I wasn’t Scoutmaster for nothing, you can count on me to keep you safe. Scout’s Honor.”

He held up three fingers and Maureen shrugged.

Cecil’s watch relayed two more minutes and his stomach jumped again.

“Okay everyone, group hug!” He held his arms wide and they all gave a _“really?”_ look. “For good luck!” They sighed, huddled close, broke the embrace, and scrambled to their positions. Cecil took up the mic in the shadows, the lights flashed to position, the curtains swished open, and it started.

***

_Before._

_When it was dark. So dark that light had no place in the world.  Horrors stalked the earth. Vial beings controlled by sinister forces roamed and ravaged the families, the children._

_Each year they were stripped of their youngest, made to watch as they either succumbed to the influences or were torn limb from limb. Generations passed and the populations suffered. There was no light. Only cold, impenetrable blackness that seeped into the very soul until nothing was left but despair and fear._

_**The Being** watched. **They** saw all that happened._

_But **They** were so weak._

_Faith had dwindled and now it was but a mystery, a tale told to those who were foolish enough to defy, to rebel, to hope._

_But one man and one woman were soon to change the fate of the world. The Savior was soon to be born and She would rise up. She would grow. She would resist._

_And She would **fight**._

_*_

The Virgin Father sat in his hut, contemplating, his face stoic and unmoving. The horrors he had seen were etched in his expression and he appeared sickeningly gaunt in the few embers that glowed before him.

The bear would be let loose upon them soon. The months had turned, the sun had sunk and risen and passed its designated numbers, and the day was almost upon them.

The immediate day following The Collection, he would begin preparing. He would train and practice, build and reinforce, but all of his attempts at stopping the bear always proved to be miserable failures.

And he had lost his children; the ones he had managed to save over the years, the ones he and his husband had found huddling and terrified, spared, yet only to be taken the next year. He had lost them. And his husband, stricken with grief, heartbroken…

He had lost him, too.

So he sat, staring into the sputtering fire as he thought about all the was gone, about The Collection creeping ever closer, and how he had nothing to lose this year.

Be it a spark of insanity or genuine happiness, he would never be able to tell, but he suddenly found himself smiling.

His lips pulled back in a muscle contraction that was almost alien for all the years he had not done it but was familiar all the same.

He had no one, so there was no one left for them to take. They could hurt him no longer. He would not see the children brainwashed by the gifts and stolen away by The Dark Agents. He would not see the heartbreak in his husband’s eyes as they lost another, would not see the life leaving him as each Collection brought fresh hell onto their pitiful existence.

In a sick and twisted sense… he had won.

And as he smiled wider and wider, a deep rent tore through his heart.

_They have taken everything._

He smiled and something hot burned in his chest.

_There is nothing left for me to lose._

His throat and eyes seared as the tears came, hot, heavy, and unrelenting.

_I have no one._

He cried for a long time with bouts of hysterical laughing erupting between the sobs. His body shook and heaved until the exertion of the frenzied emotions left him weak and exhausted at which point he fell into a fitful sleep.

*

_Wake._

He stirred but did not open his eyes. Hazes still clung to his consciousness and he knew better than to break from a sleep that rendered him forgetful of his woes.

_Wake, My Child._

The voice was pulling him back to reality and he let it. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard and waking back into the nightmare world couldn’t be so terrible if this voice was there, too.

Something soft brushed tenderly along his cheek and the voice spoke again as he tried to open his eyes.

 _Wake._ It commanded again _. But do not see me for I am weak and to see your God upon Their knees would bring greater sorrow than you have known. Wake but stay in the comforting darkness of sleep and listen to me._

He did as he was instructed and remained half in the dazes of restful bliss and half alert to the silken words that caressed the abominable world around him.

_I feel you are not afraid. I feel your pain and I am hurt as you do. I have watched My world crumble under the hands of The Dark Agents and Santa. No purgation can stop them for all good would be destroyed as well. I am weak and I cannot Create again. I am weak, but you are not._

He wished to tell this voice that he was indeed weak, that he was defeated, helpless, hopeless… But the beautiful tones seeped into his very soul, giving him a strength he had never experienced before and he felt himself waking.

The voice let out a faint gasp and The Virgin Father felt something surge inside of him. His eyes shot open and he found himself enveloped in a mist, no a cloud, no a _sentience_ of the deepest color he had ever seen. The blackness it produced held sensations of love and beauty, secrets and fears but all without the sinister indications of the darkened world around.

He did not speak, he did not move, he simply waited for **_The Being_** to address him. A few quiet moments passed in which he felt **_The Being_** as though it were a human attempting to catch its breath and when **_They_** spoke again, **_Their_** voice trembled ever so slightly from exertion.

_I have imbued you with my strength. What remained in me is now in you and you will bear a Savior onto this world that will end the tyranny of The Dark Agents once and for all. The strength I have given you will keep Her safe until Her time comes. If all is performed and She does as She is destined, then the world will be at peace. Until that time you must teach Her of the sins of this world, you must protect Her until you can do so no longer and then you must let Her go to do what She must._

*

And so he bore **_The Being’s_ ** child and he named her Maria and he taught her all that he could. As she grew, she exhibited a strength never before seen in any child. She learned quickly and diligently from her Father. She held compassion and hatred in a ratio that deemed her the perfect warrior, and by the time she turned thirteen, she had already broken into several of The Dark Agents’ compounds and killed dozens.  

But she was not just physically able, she was smarter and more clever than any other and with her wits, she and her Father soon developed the means by which to finally end The Collection, The Dark Agents, and _Santa_.

*

It began when Maria first discovered mistletoe.

She was scavenging for food when she came across a vine she had never seen before. It strangled the life from the trees that hosted it and she took a handful of the white berries and brought them back to their encampment.

“Father, look. Have you seen these before?” She threw down her bow and quiver and sat cross legged by the fire. She extended the berries to her Father and he examined them closely.

He shook his head, “Never, but we are low on stores and the children are hungry. We’ll boil them down and see if they are safe to eat. Are there more?”

Maria nodded, “Thousands, and their vines grow plentifully.”

“Good, give them here.”

The four children they had rescued from last year’s Collection emerged from their makeshift tent and gathered around the fire to watch as they boiled the berries down into a pungent syrup.

Maria volunteered to test them on the grounds that she had the strongest constitution between the five of them, but the syrup was on her tongue less than a second before she spat it out.

“Poisonous.” She confirmed as she wiped her mouth. “Perhaps the strongest yet but it can still be useful to us.”

“Yes,” her Father agreed, “but they would have been more useful had they been edible. Come children,” He sighed and stood, “let us sleep. Perhaps tomorrow we will find sustenance. Good night, Maria.”

“Good night, Father.” She stared back into the fire, her thoughts tumbling over each other, and Maria soon found a plan forming in her head. Thoughts kept clicking and fitting together as she mulled over everything she had learned in her seventeen years of existence and the berries were the final piece to the puzzle.

The next morning she ventured out early and gathered more berries. Her Father was confused to see her returning with her quiver filled but she relayed her revelation and soon they and the children were hard at work.

They spent the next few months gathering and boiling and straining the berries until they were left with a clear liquid of concentrated poison. The only problem they now faced was how to get the bear to ingest it.

For many nights, Maria lay awake thinking and formulating a plan. She mentally tried several options over and over but they all failed. She knew it was dangerous, but they had no choice. If they ever wanted to free themselves from The Dark Agents and Santa, they all would have to be in harm’s way.

***

The Collection was drawing nearer and nearer and each day they rehearsed their plans. They had located one of The Dark Agent’s largest compounds and set up camp ten or so miles away. Each day, Maria would walk the distance to spy and return with news of what she had seen.

They built their plans around her reports and soon they were prepared. The Collection was almost upon them and they were ready.

***

The sun dipped low and they sat in a circle around the fire, backs to the embers, eyes staring, straining for signs of the bear or its Creators.

The children were shivering and Maria reassured them that they would be safe. She nocked an arrow into her bow to prove that she would protect them and the terror in their eyes seemed to lessen.

“It will be fine.” She said, both to the children and her Father. “Nothing bad will befall any of you. Tonight, The Collection ends and you will live in terror no longer.”

She then turned her attention back to the horizon in the direction of the compound and clutched tightly to the vial in her pocket.

*

Maria spotted the bear before anyone else and her heart sank as she saw it was not alone.

“This changes nothing, Father.” He nodded at her confidence and waited a few seconds before gathering the children behind him.

The bear loomed larger and larger the closer it came and the agents trotting beside it looked like black specters of death. They stopped fifteen feet away from the rebels, eyeing them with amusement.

“We will not succumb to you!” Maria’s voice was steady but her soul felt as though it were shaking. “We will fight and we will win. You will reign no longer and you will perish.”

One of the agents let out a laugh and the others joined in. The bear, meanwhile had started circling them.

The children watched in terror and held close to their adopted Father.

“What is wrong, children.” The bear crooned, his voice pleasant but thick with malice. “Do not be afraid. I do not come to hurt you. I am sad that you did not come with me before. I am sad you did not receive your gifts. Do you not want your gifts?”

The children went wide eyed as the agents produced boxes, beautifully wrapped and adorned with sparkling ribbons.

Maria had her bow up in a flash, but did not fire. She knew the enchantments put onto those boxes and she needed to keep them as far away from the children as possible.

“Leave us and we will not harm you. Continue to engage and we will kill you. _All of you.”_

Her face was stone and she could see the glares of the agents even through their obsidian glasses. She could have held her position for ages, could have stood them down with just her expression, but two things happened that dashed her careful planning to bits.

First, the agents threw the gifts into the air in a perfect arch so as to find their target right in the middle of the gathered children. Second, the bear lunged from behind and threw her Father sideways.

Maria loosed an arrow, an agent went down, but she was suddenly thrown back as the bear’s claws ripped across her back and tore off her quiver. She rolled neatly onto her feet and jumped up, brandishing the knife she had hidden in her shoe. She lunged at the bear, swerving to the right at the last second and throwing off the aim of his gigantic paws. His momentum caused him to stumble and Maria took these precious seconds to sidestep him and run for the children.

An arrow whizzed past her ear and found its target in the bear’s shoulder. She looked over to see her Father crashing his bow across an agent’s cheek, the gun flying from her grip, before nocking and loosing another.

The bear roared as the second arrow sunk into his neck and he turned, blinded by fury, to her Father.

He let another one fly and this time, it found its mark in the bear’s eye. The creature reared up on its hind legs, forepaws scraping at its eye, trying desperately to pull out the arrow.

Maria saw this as the perfect opportunity and she dove forward.

“MARIA!”

She stopped dead in her tracks, whipping around as she remembered the children. Only one of them had scrambled away and they sobbed her name as the other three stood paralyzed and zombie-like, the boxes opened and leaking at their feet.

“NO!” She screamed and ran to them. She pulled the three away but they were already gone, their pupils were dilated far past any normal human’s and their faces were slack with indifference.

A sickening crack sounded followed by a roar and Maria turned to see the bear had snapped the end of the arrow from his eye. He threw it to the ground and turned his bloody gaze to Maria.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her Father drive his knife into the last agent.

“FATHER!”

But the bear was already crashing towards her.

“RUN!” She shoved the child back, there was no hope for the other three, and she held her knife tightly as the great beast bounded towards her. She grabbed the vial from her pocket and prepared to throw.

_Closer. Closer._

Her eyes were blurry with furious tears and she held her arm back, her muscles tensed and waited…

And then the bear jumped.

He flew over her, his great body soaring and creating a gusting wind the threw Maria to the ground. He landed with a crash and tore after the child.

“GET UP!” Her Father pulled her to her feet and ran for the child. He loosed another arrow and it sunk into the bear’s hind leg. He bellowed but kept pursuit after the child.

The child screamed for help but they were too far behind and the bear was too close. She stumbled and fell and the bear was upon her.

He held her down with a great paw on her back and produced a gift out of seemingly nowhere.

“Take it.” He murmured and the child buried her face in the ground, crying and begging to be released. “Take it” he hissed but the child wouldn’t.

“LET HER GO!”

The bear turned his great head to see the two rebels glaring like death at him. The Father nocked his final arrow and Maria held up her knife.

The bear let out a bellowing laugh that shook the earth to its core.

“You think you can defeat me?” He laughed and the child cried out as his weight pushed onto her. “You think you can defeat Santa? The most powerful being in the world? You puny humans are nothing compared to me, what makes you think your play tools can vanquish me?”

“Let her go,” Maria repeated and she lowered her knife, “and take me instead.”

The bear blinked at her and a silence fell between them. Her Father stared at her but she refused to meet his shocked eyes.

“I give you the child?”

Maria nodded.

“And in return I get you? The one who was prophesied to destroy me? The _Savior_?”

Maria swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“MARIA NO!”

“Deal!”

The bear lifted his paw and the child scrambled to her feet. She ran to them and clutched tight to Maria’s shaking body.

“You have two minutes to say your goodbyes.” The bear then sat back on his haunches with a haughty grin, sneering at her in her despair.

 _“Maria.”_ Tears poured from her Father’s eyes and he pulled his one and only daughter into his arms.

“It is fine, Father.” She whispered shakily into his shoulder. “I was destined to be our Savior. You told me yourself, Father, and that is the destiny I must fulfill.”

She knelt and embraced the child who was crying pitifully and placed a kiss on their dirty head.

“I love both of you beyond measure and that is why I am willing to do this. Goodbye Father, goodbye Sandra. Do not mourn my death and do not feel pity for me. Remember me as you see me now, strong in the face of death, strong in the face of uncertainty. Honor my name when it is spoken, do not let me die in vain for that is not what I do on this day. I die for the sake of mankind. I die to save you. I die because I love you.”

She then stood, shakily removed the stopper from the vial, lifted it to her lips and drank. The poison was bitter but she held back the grimace as she marched toward the bear.

“You are correct, Maria, in assuming you will die. A pity that such a brave individual must be vanquished. Would you like any last words or are those too tacky for your pride?”

Maria felt the poison working quickly and her vision was beginning to cloud. She struggled to remain standing but it was too much. She sank to her knees, coughing and shuddering.

“Even my mere presence is too much for you.” The bear gloated.

Maria collapsed and could just see her Father and Sandra holding tight to the other, restraining themselves from rushing forwards. Tears poured from their eyes as they watched their beautiful Maria dying.

She coughed and blood spattered the ground. She took in a raspy breath.

“Santa, your presence does nothing to me. I tremble at no one and you will not win this day. Good always trumps evil, and on this day you will not win.”

The bear laughed a horrible roar before lowering his open jaws to her ear.

_“Dear Maria, I have already won…”_

*

_And on Rogue Mari’s body, Santa gorged himself, and just as Maria had hoped, he ate every last piece of her._

_But she had not planned enough, for the poison did not kill the bear. No, his body was too strong and no amount of mistletoe could fully vanquish him._

_But it subdued him enough to prevent his tyranny from reigning and his gifts from attacking, and that is why, every Christmas, we must sacrifice the mistletoe and meat in our bloodstones. We must honor Rogue Maria’s death. We must do as she did and keep the bear weak. She is our Savior and on Christmas Day we honor her sacrifice. We keep the monster away. We keep his gifts harmless and free of the toxins his Creators imbued in them._

_Blessed Savior is she and in our memories and knowledge she will live on. Her death was not in vain and we keep ourselves strong with what she did for us. Bless and praise, the one and only Savior._

The audience murmured these last few lines along with Cecil, the prayer ingrained in their memories since childhood.

The lights then changed to view the whole cast standing on the stage and they bowed to the cheering that erupted from the seats. They laced hands, bowed two more times and then the curtains swished closed.

Cecil pulled everyone into a hug, his face shining with excitement.

“THAT WAS SO NEAT!!” He laughed and hugged everyone all over again. “You guys were so great!”

“Cecil?” The radio host turned around to see Carlos slipping in through the curtains.

Cecil rushed at him, leaving the others to chatter excitedly in their post performance high, and swooped Carlos up in a hug.

“Did you like it Carlos?! I put this all on for you! Wasn’t it amazing?!”

Carlos laughed as Cecil jumped up and down like a child. “It was certainly something, Ceec. I, uh, I suppose we’d better go stock up on mistletoe, shouldn’t we?”

Cecil laughed and planted a quick kiss on the scientist’s lips.

“Yes, yes we should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. This is definitely what Christmas is about in Night Vale and you can't convince me otherwise.


End file.
